


Eager to Please

by SoManyJacks



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Background Akira/Futaba, Background Relationships, Dom!Akira, Dom/sub, Friends With Benefits, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Phone Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Sexting, Under-negotiated Kink, Voyeurism, ace!futaba, bi!ryuji, cumplay (mild), maybe some feelings eventually, ruined orgasm, seriously though there is no plot here, sub!ryuji
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:14:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28492974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoManyJacks/pseuds/SoManyJacks
Summary: Two years after high school, Ryuji suddenly starts thinking about Akira when he's jerking off. When he finds out Akira is into it, things get interesting.
Relationships: Amamiya Ren/Sakamoto Ryuji, Kurusu Akira/Sakamoto Ryuji, Kurusu Akira/Sakamoto Ryuji/Sakura Futaba, Persona 5 Protagonist/Sakamoto Ryuji
Comments: 20
Kudos: 52





	1. Watch Me

**Author's Note:**

> HEADS UP:  
> I have no idea why I needed to write this, but here it is. Literally just porn. There is no plot planned, but there will probably be complicated feelings at some point. Mostly this will be a series of chapters exploring D/s kinks with a heavy emphasis on [literally everything in the tags]. Although this is an Akira/Ryuji focused fic, there may be some M/M/F chapters at some point with Futaba, haven't decided. If so, tags will be updated accordingly.

There was something about playing those old video games that made part of Ryuji’s brain shut off. Maybe it was the patterns or the repetition, but somehow he always found himself blurting out stupid shit. 

Of course, that didn’t stop him from playing when he went to visit Akira. Hell, there was nothing else to do in that crusty old attic. You’d think now they were in college Akira would’ve upgraded to a flat screen or at least a console that wasn’t old enough to vote. 

But no. And Ryuji had never been one to keep secrets anyway. Which was fine, because usually he didn’t have any secrets, until one day he did. 

Ryuji had been doing pretty good at keeping it to himself though. Or at least, he did great when he wasn’t zoned out on video games. “Dude, do you ever....” Flushing, he hurriedly clopped his mouth shut before he could finish the thought.

Fuck, why had he said anything? The problem was, a few months back he started to have strange thoughts while he was, uh, jerking off. Normally he'd never talk about that kinda shit with anyone, but... as time went on, it got harder not to blurt it out. Akira was his best friend, after all. 

Still, there were some things better left unsaid. Especially since Akira was the subject of those thoughts.

Akira glanced up from his book. “What’s that?”

“Nuthin’, man, don’t worry about it.”

Ryuji was pretty sure he wasn’t gay. He only ever thought about Akira, not random dudes. Ryuji even googled it, furtively opening up a private browser window late one night, hands trembling as he typed _want sex with one dude am I gay._ Somehow he landed on a site that explained that lots of mostly-straight people find one or two people of the opposite sex attractive. At most he was bi, but only, like, a little bit? Or something? ‘Course, there was nothin’ wrong with being gay, but Ryuji still wanted to sleep with chicks, he was pretty sure. So to find out he was bi was a relief, as was his subsequent orgasm a few minutes later from watching censored porn of two dudes jacking off together.

Akira didn’t need to know any of this stuff though. Ryuji hoped he would drop it and go back to reading. 

But telling Akira not to worry about something was like telling a shark to stop swimming. He put the book down and stared at Ryuji patiently.

Rolling his eyes, Ryuji shook his head. “Really man, it was stupid.” 

The first time it happened was about two months before. Ryuji had a sex dream that started out about a girl, but then Akira was there too. And then somehow he was having sex with Akira and the girl was gone? Ryuji woke up rock hard, grinding on his mattress. Half-asleep, he couldn’t stop thinking about Akira as he came, shuddering and gasping.

After that, it started happening when he was awake, too. Maybe it was just because Ryuji was in the middle of a dry spell? Between college and his running club and part-time job, he didn’t have time to go out and meet chicks the way he did his first year. He hadn’t gotten laid in long enough that he had to stop and count the months on his fingers, which was pathetic.

Akira’s expression didn’t change. “I hate it when you call my best friend stupid.”

Flushing, Ryuji shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with the indirect praise. With a huff, he paused the game. “You ever think about, like, weird shit when you’re… you know. Jerkin’ it?”

Akira’s eyebrows shifted ever so slightly northward. Immediately, Ryuji waved him off and turned back to the game, his cheeks flaming. “See? Told you it was dumb.”

There was a pause. “Define ‘weird’,” Akira said.

Resolutely refusing to look at Akira, Ryuji shrugged. “You know, like… weird.”

“Weird as in tentacles?”

Ryuji made a face. “What the fuck, man?”

Akira shrugged with one shoulder. 

“Nah, I meant like… thinking about people you wouldn’t have sex with. Like… like dudes.”

Snorting, Akira shook his head. “That _hardly_ qualifies as weird.”

 _Does that mean no?_ Ryuji kind of hoped it did, because then they could stop talking about this and pretend he’d never brought it up. “Right, right. See, I told you it was dumb. Anyways –”

“Ryuji, pause the game.”

It wasn’t like Akira to issue a direct order. Feeling as though he was being called out by a teacher, Ryuji meekly pressed the pause button, hanging his head.

“I think about dudes, sometimes. And girls. And all sorts of stuff.”

Ryuji’s head rose slightly. His heart was starting to thud in his chest, what the fuck was that about? “Y-you do?”

“Yeah. Does that bother you?” 

Ryuji glanced over. “Nah,” he mumbled, wishing he sounded more casual. “I mean, why would it bother me? Not like, you know, you’re gonna be weird about it or nuthin’, right?”

Akira didn’t answer him directly. “Have you been thinking about guys while you masturbate?” 

Stricken, Ryuji stared at Akira. He could lie. He _should_ lie. Because it wasn’t that Ryuji had been thinking about men in general, but Akira specifically. And best friends or not, you couldn’t just _say_ that kind of thing. Fuck, they shouldn’t even be talking about getting off at all. 

And yet, Ryuji had never lied to Akira. “Um.” His voice cracked. “M-maybe?”

“You’re too hard on yourself,” Akira tutted. “It’s perfectly natural. It’s just fantasy. You’ve never felt uncomfortable around me, have you?”

“What? No, ‘course not!”

Akira shrugged. “See? There you are. Nothing to worry about.” He turned back to his book.

Ryuji blinked several times. Eventually the context clues slid into place in his mind and he gasped. “Wait – you mean – you – you thought about –” Unable to bring himself to say _you thought about me,_ Ryuji’s mouth slid open. “While you were – _duuuuude!”_

Ryuji felt hot. And cold. And also like maybe he was floating a few inches off the couch. Except he definitely wasn’t, because he could feel his cock twitch where it was smushed between his body and the cushion. 

Laughing gently, Akira turned the page in his book. “Why not? You’re cute. I’ve thought about basically all of my friends at one time or another. That doesn’t mean I’d ever _do_ anything about it. I just have really attractive friends.”

Ryuji’s brain once again screeched to a halt. “Even Futaba-chan?”

Akira straightened abruptly. “Actually –”

“Oh thank fuck,” Ryuji said, slumping in relief.

“– Futaba and I sleep together sometimes,” Akira finished. 

_“WHAT??”_

A gentle flush rose on Akira’s cheeks. “When she turned eighteen, she decided she wanted to see what sex was like. And we trust each other, and neither of us is interested in a romantic relationship. Not with each other anyway. It’s just a way to blow off steam sometimes.” Then he laughed to himself. “You wanna talk _weird,_ you should talk to her. She’s kinky as hell, let me tell you. Taught me a thing or two.”

“F-futaba-chan??” Ryuji screwed his eyes shut, trying, and failing spectacularly, to envision Futaba in the throes of passion. 

It wasn’t that Futaba was unattractive: she’d really grown into her looks. But she was still Futaba, the girl who spent all day online and made gross jokes and wiped her nose on her sleeve when she thought no one was looking. The concept of Futaba in a sexual situation was hard for Ryuji to wrap his mind around. 

The closest Ryuji could get was picturing her laying on her bed with a laptop while Akira climbed on top of her. Then suddenly the whole scene shifted and he imagined Akira climbing on top of _him,_ leaning down to whisper in Ryuji’s ear --

“Ryuji? Hello??”

Startled, Ryuji scrambled to unpause his game. “Good for you, man,” he nodded. “Glad that’s workin’ out for ya.” Resolutely, he forced all his attention on the pixelated sprite moving on the screen. Two short hops, then a long jump, then sprint past the fire wheel, and –

In his peripheral vision, Ryuji sensed Akira open his mouth to respond. But then Akira just shook his head slightly and went back to his studying.

After that, it just got awkward, as Ryuji feared it would. He played the game for a bit longer, wracking his brain for a way out of the situation. Thank fuck for Sojiro, who called up to see if Akira could help with a backlog of dishes.

“Eh, guess I’ll get outta your hair,” Ryuji said, trying to sound totally cool and relaxed and not freaked out whatsoever.

“Sorry,” Akira said. He stood and stretched. The hem of his t-shirt rose above the waist of his pants, giving Ryuji a glance of skin where abs met hips.

Although they’d seen each other naked at the bathhouse tons of times, that inch of exposed skin was suddenly too much to take. Flinching violently, Ryuji wiped his eyes. “I need a break from gaming anyhow. Catch you later?”

“Of course,” Akira said mildly, smiling at him. 

Ryuji wasn’t at all sure what that smile was about, but it hit like a punch to the gut. He gathered his things and scrambled downstairs, practically sprinting out of the cafe. 

Despite trying to think about basically anything else, Ryuji only managed to work himself up. It was mind blowing to know Akira sometimes imagined him while he jerked off. 

Like, what did he imagine? Did he think about Ryuji sucking his cock? That was one of the things Ryuji thought about, a lot. Like, he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about himself on his knees, Akira’s hands on his head. Sometimes Akira was gentle and sometimes he was brutal, skullfucking Ryuji until he choked and gagged, but either way Ryuji came whenever he imagined Akira shooting his load in his mouth.

Or did he think about fucking Ryuji’s ass? Ryuji had only ever used fingers on himself, enough to know it felt kinda good. Actually taking a whole cock though, that was… fuck that was hot. 

Ryuji spent most of the train ride fighting down a boner. As soon as he got home and his door was locked behind him, Ryuji fumbled to pull out his now-aching cock. He didn’t even bother to take off his jacket or get in bed – he frantically stroked himself right there in the entryway, his back pressed up against the door.

He didn’t even imagine anything particularly sexual, so much as Akira staring at him with that thoughtful expression while he pumped his cock. The thought of actually _doing_ that, of jerking himself off while Akira watched, had Ryuji spilling into his hand with a pathetic whimper in less than a minute.

After, he felt faintly wretched and not-so-faintly exhausted, as if he’d just run a mile with no warm-up. Shaking slightly, he cleaned himself up and threw himself on the bed. Whatever. It was fine. Hadn’t Akira said it was normal? Anyway now that Ryuji had said something, it would be out of his system, right?

* * *

As much as Ryuji tried to forget all about their conversation, it dominated his thoughts – and his orgasms – for the next week and a half. Ryuji kept hoping his brain would get bored, but the opposite happened. Suddenly he was hornier than ever, getting himself off two or three times a day or more while his imagination went wild with thoughts of Akira. 

Still, it wasn’t like Ryuji saw him all the time. Now that they were in separate colleges, they only caught up once every few weeks if they were lucky. 

So Ryuji would just have to avoid Akira for a bit. No problem. 

Until it was. Ryuji stared in dismay at the group text – Ann wanted to get together at Leblanc the following afternoon to celebrate her latest magazine spread. Somehow, the stars had aligned and everyone was free. Ryuji was the only one who hadn’t replied, watching as everyone happily made plans. 

He realized he was being stupid. With a huff, he typed out that he would be there too. It would be fine. 

It was… mostly fine, in the sense that no one noticed he was uncomfortable. He sat as far away from Akira as possible, forcing himself to focus on the conversation and jokes. After a while he started to feel like he was getting the hang of it. What the hell was he so worried about, anyway?

Until he caught a glimpse of Futaba reaching over to ruffle Akira’s hair. It made perfect sense in context – the others were mocking Akira for how badly he needed a haircut – but suddenly all Ryuji could think about was the two of them fucking. 

It wasn’t that he was jealous, exactly, but he wasn’t _not_ jealous, either. Was it really that easy for them to have sex and still be friends? It couldn’t be, could it? If it was that easy, then that meant that maybe he and Akira could.... Ryuji’s cheeks went red. 

Akira glanced at him, his smile fading ever so slightly as he saw Ryuji’s expression. Flustered, Ryuji excused himself, muttering about needing to go to the bathroom. 

In the restroom, Ryuji splashed his face with water, forcing himself to calm down. After a few minutes, he felt pulled together enough to get back to the party.

As soon as he opened the door, he saw Akira was loitering in the hallway. “We need more towels? Hang on, they’re here in the closet,” he said, his voice raised. Without waiting for a response, he pulled Ryuji into the stairwell, out of sight. 

“Dude, what the –”

“We need to talk,” Akira said, his expression serious. “Stay behind after everyone leaves.”

Ryuji felt his stomach drop. “What?”

Akira’s face softened. “Sorry, that made it sound weird. I just – stay? For me?”

Like Ryuji would ever _dream_ of saying no to something like that. “Y-yeah, okay.”

Akira smiled. “Great.”

The rest of the party was a blur. No one noticed when Ryuji stayed behind, probably because it was totally fucking normal and Ryuji was the only one freaking the fuck out.

They went upstairs as customers trickled into the cafe for the evening. “So, uh, what’d you wanna talk about?” Ryuji asked, his voice way too shaky.

Akira sat at his desk. “I should never have told you all that last week. I apologize.” 

It wasn’t what Ryuji was expecting him to say at all. “What? No man, it’s fine,” Ryuji lied. 

Raising an eyebrow, Akira said, “You’ve barely texted at all since we talked. Clearly, it’s not. I misunderstood the situation. I thought telling you all that would make you feel more comfortable, not less. But as far as I’m concerned, nothing’s changed. You’re still my best friend.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, totally.” Ryuji nodded emphatically. “Anyway it’s my fault. Can’t get my brain to turn off sometimes, y’know?” He picked at a loose thread on the hem of his shirt, wondering why he felt so disappointed.

There was a pause. “You wanna tell me about it?”

“Pfffft, you sound like Maruki-san,” Ryuji scoffed. In truth, he was dying to talk about it, but he was also nervous. Because maybe he wanted more than just talk.

“I can get you a juice box, complete the picture,” Akira said. 

Ryuji laughed. “Man, he loved those juice boxes. Nah dude, it’d be weird to talk about, right?”

Akira tilted his head back and forth. “Maybe I want to hear you tell me more. As long as you’re comfortable, of course.”

Ryuji’s heart started to pound. “Do you?”

Akira nodded. 

The moment felt dangerous, but Ryuji wasn’t sure why. “What do you wanna know?”

Akira regarded him thoughtfully. “How often do you get yourself off?”

Ryuji flushed. It felt really strange to talk about this stuff. Until two weeks ago they’d barely ever talked about sex at all. And with the way Akira was watching him, it kinda felt like it did when Ryuji imagined it. He licked his lips. “I dunno man, once or twice a day. Sometimes more.”

Akira’s eyebrows shot up. “How much more?”

“Er… like once I did seven, but it was all throughout the day. Not, like, all at once.”

It was hard to tell, but it seemed like Akira’s eyes started to gleam. Whatever it was, it made Ryuji squirm and fidget. “That’s a lot. Did you do it already today?”

“Um. Yeah?” 

There was another pause. “I want you to tell me what you thought about. Can you do that for me?”

Ryuji’s throat went dry. “Seriously man?”

“You don’t _have_ to,” Akira pointed out. “But I want you to.”

Ryuji’s embarrassment didn’t hold a candle to his desire to please. “Um. Y-you, actually.”

Akira nodded as if that was what he expected. “What did we do?”

“Holy shit this is weird,” Ryuji muttered. He realized he was sweating slightly. “Uh, you were… I… nnngh, dammit.” He got to his feet and started to pace. 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to –” Akira began to say.

Ryuji cut him off. “You were watching me. Um. Do it.” Ryuji’s voice trailed off as he felt his traitorous cock start to throb. “But, I mean, that’s crazy, right?”

“Not even a little.” 

If it had been anyone else, Ryuji would have thought Akira was messing with him. But there was no hint of playfulness or mocking in Akira’s expression. “It’s not?”

“Do you want me to watch you? I’d enjoy that.” 

Ryuji swallowed hard. “Just, like, you watch me, and then after we go back to being friends and it’s not all weird?” 

“If that’s what you want. Or....”

“Or?”

Akira shrugged. “If you decide after that you want to do more, we can do that too.”

“M-more? Like, how much more?”

The corner of Akira’s lips curled up. “Oh, I’ve got all sorts of ideas.”

That look made Ryuji’s stomach quiver. “Like what?”

Akira smirked. “Seems to me you get off an awful lot. Wouldn’t you feel better if someone else took control of all that?”

Ryuji suddenly felt warm all over. “Like, what, you’d tell me when to…?”

Shrugging, Akira scratched his ear. “I was thinking more like, you tell me when you want it, and I let you know whether or not you’ve earned it.”

“Holy _fuck,”_ Ryuji whispered. Without thinking, his hand drifted to his crotch, squeezing his now-obvious erection to get some relief. He’d never thought about that before, but in the moment he wanted it so bad he could practically taste it.

“We can talk about it later, when you’ve got more blood in your actual brain.” Akira glanced at his crotch with a dispassionate expression. Holy _shit,_ why was that so hot? “For now, why don’t you just get yourself off for me while I watch?” He spun his chair around to face Ryuji, leaning back with his hands behind his head. 

Ryuji’s eyes bulged. “What, now?? Here?” He looked around the attic as if seeing it for the first time. The faint sounds of clinking coffee mugs and the television news came from the stairwell, a stark reminder that there was no physical door between the cafe and Akira’s room.

“Yes. Here and now.” Akira regarded him calmly. “Are you having second thoughts?”

“Well, no, but…” Ryuji swallowed hard. “Just kinda strange, with you watching me and all.”

Akira regarded the bulge in Ryuji’s pants. “I’d say you’re pretty interested.”

Ryuji licked his lips. He was way more than interested. “And… you’re just gonna watch, right? You’re not gonna, uh, do anything else?” Ryuji couldn’t decide whether he wanted Akira to do more or not. 

Akira nodded. “I’m going to watch you masturbate,” he said, his tone dry and clinical. “And later, I’m going to think about it while I get myself off.”

There was no reason any of that should have been so arousing, but Ryuji winced as his cock throbbed. “O-okay.” 

Fumbling, he pulled himself out of his pants. He kept his hand wrapped around the shaft – somehow it felt more like he was covering himself that way. Which was ridiculous, as the head of his cock was still visible. Tentatively, he began to stroke.

Akira nodded encouragingly. “That’s it,” he said. His mouth didn’t quite close all the way, giving Ryuji a glimpse of his teeth.

All of a sudden, Ryuji realized what he was doing. “This is crazy, man,” he mumbled, his hand no longer moving. 

“It’s not,” Akira said calmly. “Trust me. If you want to stop, that’s fine, but you’re doing great.”

The praised seemed to melt all over Ryuji like an icy-hot balm, making him blush and shiver at the same time. He groaned quietly, once again stroking himself. Fuck, it just felt so fucking _good._ Now that he was getting into it, he let his eyes fall closed and –

“No,” Akira said. “Eyes open. Watch me while you masturbate.” 

Ryuji hissed in shock, dutifully opening his eyes. He made a pathetic sound of frustration, almost whimpering.

“I know. I know it’s difficult,” Akira nodded. His eyes were nearly black and his breath was faster than normal. He licked his lips. “You’re doing so well. Look at you, stroking your cock for me right in the middle of the room like this.”

“Nnnngh,” was all Ryuji could manage. “So close.”

“Better make it last,” Akira said, tilting his head. “You never know when you’ll get another.”

 _“Fuck.”_ Despite Akira’s instruction, Ryuji’s eyes scrunched closed as he felt himself start to cum. It was the most intense orgasm he could remember; his hips jerked and bucked as he fucked his own hand, spurting wildly. Then suddenly he felt dizzy, off-balance. He stumbled.

Instantly, Akira was at his side, keeping him from falling. “Here, let’s get you to the bed,” he murmured, helping Ryuji to the futon in the corner. For a second it reminded Ryuji of their old days in the metaverse; it could have been any one of the countless times they helped each other in battle.

But this wasn’t a fight. As Ryuji sat heavily on the edge of the bed, Akira stood over him, his own erection nearly at eye level.

Ryuji blushed further, glancing away. “Holy shit,” he muttered. Without thinking, he went to rub the back of his neck, only to realize it was covered in cum. “Holy shit,” he said again. Misgivings began to flood through him. What the fuck did he just do?

Akira deftly grabbed his wrist, gently cleaning his hand off with a paper towel. Then he sat next to Ryuji, hip to hip. “Can I put my arm around you?”

Baffled, Ryuji stammered, “Huh? I mean, sure?”

Akira enfolded him in a bear hug, pulling Ryuji’s head down to his shoulder. Then he started to kind of… pet Ryuji’s hair. Or something? It was weird, but… it was also kind of amazing? 

“You did great,” Akira murmured. “So good. How do you feel?”

“Um. Okay, I guess?” It was strange – like, it wasn’t the first time they hugged or anything, but it was the first time Ryuji really _felt_ it. Gradually his pulse returned to normal and his head stopped spinning. 

Ryuji didn’t know what to do with his hands. Tentatively, he slid one arm around Akira’s waist, mostly so the angle wasn’t so awkward. Somehow that felt even more amazing, so he reached out with his other arm too. 

“Good,” Akira nodded, nuzzling Ryuji’s hair. “That’s the idea.”

They hugged for another moment. Ryuji was all-too aware of the fact that Akira was hard. “Er… you good though?”

“I’m hornier than I’ve ever been in my life,” Akira said, laughing sheepishly. “But yeah.”

Suddenly, it no longer seemed weird. Maybe it was just the post-nut brain fog clearing, but it seemed totally normal. Better than normal – Ryuji wondered why they hadn’t done this years ago. He started to snicker. “Dude, that’s not very fair though, right? I mean, c’mon.”

Still laughing, Akira pulled away. “I don’t want to re-negotiate when you’re all loopy. Trust me, I’ll be more than fine.”

Ryuji wasn’t sure he understood the part about negotiating, but he didn’t want to sound like an idiot, either. “So… you’re gonna… after I leave?”

“Fuck yes,” Akira grinned.

Ryuji had a thought. “Um… could you.... Ahh forget it.”

“Ryuji,” Akira frowned in mock disapproval. “I thought we went over this.”

Blushing madly, Ryuji mumbled, “Well I was just thinkin’… maybe you could… like, tell me? When you do? Like text me or whatever?” 

Akira’s face bloomed into a wide smile, which made Ryuji feel weird-but-good in his stomach. But then Akira’s expression changed, a devilish gleam in his eye. “Oh I’ll _definitely_ do that,” he said. 

Something about the way he said it made Ryuji shudder in the best possible way. 

“Ah, you’re so cute,” Akira grinned. Then he stood and went to the cabinet where he kept his food. He raised his eyebrows as he brandished two bowls of instant noodles.

“Hell yeah,” Ryuji said. “Fuckin’ starving, man.”

“Some things never change,” Akira said.

After that it was just… normal. They hung out for a bit, shot the shit like always, and then Ryuji went home on the second-to-last train. In fact it was so normal that Ryuji had almost forgotten what he’d asked Akira to do.

Which is why it was such a shock to open a text on the train to see a picture of Akira’s hard cock. Ryuji went beet red, almost dropping his phone as he scrambled to shut off the screen. Thank fuck, there was no one sitting right next to him, though the old woman sitting across the way scowled. 

Heart pounding, he swiped the phone open again just as it buzzed with a second text. This one was similar, except Akira had clearly, er, finished. Ryuji felt his own cock throb. He imagined licking the droplets from Akira’s fingers, squirming in his seat. 

_Told you I would,_ came the next message. 

_Damn dude I’m on the train_

_hope I made you squirm a bit ;) you did amazing today. I hope we can do it again soon, but take some time to think about it._

Ryuji stared at the message, his cheeks flushed to the roots of his hair. He put the phone away, because if he didn’t, he’d have to get off the train with a raging boner right in front of that old lady. 

Instead he tried to think of the least sexy things he could, breathing slowly and carefully as he stared at the overhead display screen without seeing it. He managed to limp home without embarrassing himself too much anyway.

But as soon as he was alone, he pulled out his phone and scrolled up to the pics Akira sent. Fuck, it was hot, knowing that Ryuji was responsible – he made Akira cum. Yeah it was indirect or whatever, but still. 

It felt amazing. Not as amazing as it was to cum while Akira watched, but still pretty fucking incredible. His cock started to get hard again. 

For an instant, he was tempted to get himself off; he came twice that day, so he could easily go again. But then he thought about the idea of Akira controlling his orgasms. No doubt that meant he wouldn’t be cumming nearly as often. Ryuji had never been one to deny himself in that way, but the thought of doing it _for_ someone, specifically for Akira, made him feel kinda good? Like damn, he really, _really_ wanted to get himself off right that minute, but the idea that he wasn’t allowed to was hot as hell. Felt kinda kinky and almost wrong and good all at the same time.

Ryuji decided to see how it would feel to go a day like this. Maybe two. After all, they hadn’t really decided to do anything, so this could be the test. If Ryuji didn’t like it, he could just tell Akira he didn’t want to do it. 

Wouldn’t be a bad idea to take a quick break from wanking anyway – he did spend too much time getting off. Ryuji shivered in anticipation at the prospect of denying himself. That was just because he was still horny though. Yeah, that was probably it. Cold shower and a night’s rest and he’d be totally fine. Not like he was desperate or anything. Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Futaba Sakura is ace and kinky as fuck and also the queen of Rule 34, you can't change my mind.


	2. Good Boys Follow the Rules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryuji's experiment with denial is more difficult than he expects. Akira is all too happy to lay down some ground rules.

By the morning after next, Ryuji was more desperate to jerk off than he’d ever been in his life.

Fuck, it was  _ insane. _ The first day started out okay, but then midway through his morning class, he caught a glimpse of some girl’s sideboob through the opening in her sleeve. It was super tame but it made his cock twitch just a tiny bit.

Normally he would’ve just adjusted his jeans and gone on with his day, but for some reason his brain got fixated on the whole idea that he wasn’t allowed to jerk off. And  _ then  _ he thought about Akira, and everything they’d done the night before, and the fact that he had pics of Akira’s cock on his phone, and suddenly Ryuji was fighting down a boner like a snot-nosed kid in middle school.

It only got worse as the day wore on. Oh, he could go for an hour or two without thinking of sex – he wasn’t a caveman. But the  _ instant _ anything remotely sexual came up, his mind zoomed right back to ground zero. Knowing he couldn’t get any relief just made the spiral deeper.

By night, not even the freezing cold shower did much good. He lay on his bed, trying to will his erection down as it tented under his sheet. Ryuji tried clenching, hoping that would do something, maybe loosen the muscles or whatever. It did do something – it made the whole thing worse.

Fuck, was he really so weak that he couldn’t go one damn day? But shaming himself didn’t work either. Because it wasn’t a matter of being weak or strong; it was the idea of denying himself for Akira that kept his mind circling back and his cock hard.

Somehow he managed to scrape together a few hours sleep. He woke up hard and aching, unable to even piss. Which was insane. He  _ had  _ to be able to piss, right? Like, was he gonna have to beg to jerk it every morning just so he could empty his bladder?

It was the first time Ryuji had thought about the idea of begging Akira. He groaned in discomfort as his cock throbbed. Fuck, maybe he wanted that? To get on his hands and knees and beg?

“Fuck,” Ryuji whispered. For the moment he had the communal bathroom to himself, but that wouldn’t last long. As soon as the other students started getting ready for classes, he’d have company.

He decided to go into a stall; at least that way if someone came in they would think he was taking a shit, not wrestling with a boner.

There was no way he was gonna jerk it in the bathroom (but what if Akira asked him to do it?) so he tried to breathe calm and slow, rubbing his belly over his aching bladder. Eventually, he was able to piss, but it hurt like hell (would Akira be proud of him?)

By the time Akira texted him that afternoon, Ryuji had fought down about a dozen erections. At least he’d remembered to wear a jock strap that day, so he wasn’t running around waving his bulge at everyone. Still, he felt himself throb when he opened the message from Akira:

_ how’s it going? _

There was nothing to indicate any ulterior motive, but Ryuji was too worked up for any attempt at subtlety.  _ Dude are you around later? Think we need that talk. _

_ Ooh, that was fast. I’m around whenever, just stop by. _

Ryuji somehow made it through the last class of the day, practically launching himself out the door once the professor called an end to the lesson. He jogged straight to the station without going home first, cramming himself on the first available train to Yongen despite the afternoon rush hour.

“Hey, you’re back,” Sojiro greeted Ryuji as he burst into the cafe. “Here to study?” He peered at the satchel full of textbooks slung across Ryuji’s shoulder.

“Oh, er, yeah,” Ryuji said, blushing as he made his way towards the stairs.

“Good to see you taking an interest in your studies,” Sojiro nodded.

At the moment, Ryuji barely had enough brainbower to spell his own name. He scrambled up the stairs. “ _ Dude,”  _ he groaned pathetically as he got to the attic.

Akira was at his desk, using his laptop. His brows knit briefly in concern. “Did you really cram yourself into rush hour traffic to get here?”

“Fuuuuuck,” Ryuji said, slumping face first onto the couch. “Couldn’t take it any longer.”

Akira snorted. “Couldn’t take what?”

Ryuji knew he should be embarrassed to say it, but somehow it wasn’t so bad if he said it directly into the couch cushion. Or maybe he was just that desperate. “Bro I thought about what you said, ‘bout not jerking off so much, figured I’d try it to see how it went but  _ fuck.” _ Ryuji groaned into the couch.

“Ah,” Akira said. After a short pause he said, “So does that mean you haven’t touched yourself since you were here?” Once again his voice was dry, almost clinical. Why the hell was that so hot?

“Uh huh.”

“Turn over,” Akira said. “No fair hiding from me.”

Ryuji whimpered but did as he was told, rolling to lay on his back. “Sorry,” he mumbled, not quite meeting Akira’s eye.

“That’s better,” Akira nodded. He sighed. “I was hoping we could talk about this more, but you’re way too worked up,” he noted.

“What? Noooo, I thought –” Ryuji sat up, almost sick from disappointment.

“Shhh, it’s all right,” Akira said, holding up a hand. “You need relief, huh? Poor thing.”

Ryuji’s cock strained against the jock strap. He nodded, his cheeks red. It should’ve been embarrassing, being talked about like he was pathetic or whatever, but he kinda liked it, too.

Akira regarded him, his eyes gleaming. “Get on the bed,” he said. “And take your shirt off.”

Ryuji obeyed without thought, yanking his jacket and shirt off as he stumbled toward the futon.

“You really need it, huh?” Akira murmured, standing over him. He licked his lips as he saw Ryuji’s cock straining in his pants.

“Dude, I need to cum so bad,” Ryuji whined.

Akira’s hand slipped into his own waistband. “How bad? Tell me.” He started to stroke himself under the fabric of his pants, the motion clearly visible.

Ryuji almost choked, balling his hands into fists. “I could barely piss this morning,” he said, his hips flexing. “Hurt like hell, man.”

“Ohhhh, that is beautiful,” Akira whispered, his eyes almost glowing. “I’m going to pull out my cock now, is that okay?”

Nodding desperately, Ryuji bit back a groan when he saw it. Damn, it was bigger than it looked in the picture. “Holy fuck,” he whined. “Please?” He wasn’t even sure what he was asking for, just that he needed  _ something. _

“Not yet,” Akira said, shaking his head. “You waited so long for me, what’s another minute?”

Biting his lip, Ryuji nodded again, breathing hard.

“Tell me more,” Akira said.

Wincing, Ryuji said, “Dunno man, was hard as a rock all fuckin’ day. Can’t stop thinkin’ about you watching me,  _ fuck.” _ The last word was almost a squeal as Ryuji saw the first droplet of precum bead up on the head of Akira’s dick.

“Good,” Akira breathed, his hand working his shaft. “Good boy.”

“Oh fuck man, please? It hurts, I need it.” Ryuji flexed his hips again, as if he could rut against the air.

“Just a few more seconds,” Akira said. “I’m going to cum too. Right on your stomach, how does that sound?”

Ryuji writhed, nodding desperately. “Oh fuck oh  _ fuck!” _

Akira hissed. “Damn, I’m so close. Alright. You can touch yourself now.”

With a grateful whimper, Ryuji yanked down his waistband. His hard, nearly purple cock sprang up to slap him in the stomach. Frantically, he jerked his dick, panting like an animal.

Akira’s eyebrows shot up, his mouth hanging open as the first few spurts landed on Ryuji’s abs. “Now,” he grunted, the word tumbling from his mouth.

Ryuji was already there, his body curling up slightly as the climax hit him. He whined through clenched teeth, flooding his own stomach and chest as if he hadn’t cum in a month. Shuddering, he forced his eyes open so he could watch Akira pump the last vestiges of his own load out.

Finally spent, Ryuji flopped back on the futon, feeling completely boneless. He would have laid like that forever except –

“Ah shit dude, it’s gonna drip,” he said, fumbling for something to contain the mess before it hit the bedding.

Akira had a hand towel right there. But instead of just handing it to Ryuji, he sat on the edge of the bed and wiped it up himself, which was kinda weird, kinda ticklish, but also nice? “That was amazing,” he murmured.

“D’you think Sojiro heard?” Ryuji asked.

“Nah, he’s half deaf and the TV and refrigerators mask most of the noise. You’d have to scream bloody murder for him to notice.” Akira continued to dab at Ryuji’s stomach, now with a different, damp cloth. It was a bit chilly, but Ryuji could tell that at one point it had been warm.

“Wait, did you have that ready?”

Akira grinned to himself. “Maybe? Never hurts to be prepared.” His smile widened as he saw Ryuji blush. “Alright, let’s get some water and something to eat, then we can talk.”

Dinner turned out to be leftover curry. “Ah man, this is the stuff,” Ryuji sighed as he crammed the last spoonful into his mouth. “Never get tired of it.”

“Me neither,” Akira said. Then he started laughing. “I still can’t believe you got yourself so worked up.”

“Gimme a break! I just figured, you know, I’d try it out, see how it felt,” Ryuji said defensively. “Didn’t expect it to be so hard.”

Akira looked up from his food, biting his lip.

“Not like  _ that,” _ Ryuji groaned. He swiped his bottle of water from the table and drank about half of it in one go.

“You’ll give yourself a tummy ache,” Akira warned, grinning broadly.

“Fuck you,” Ryuji said, without any malice whatsoever. “So how’s this supposed to work anyway?”

Akira shrugged. “Any way we want. If I’d known you were gonna jump right to full denial I would’ve suggested some rules the other day.”

“Dude I keep telling you, I thought it would be easy,” Ryuji protested. “But I can’t be pissing through blue balls every morning, man. I mean. Un-unless you, uh, want me to?” He blushed to the roots of his hair, squirming in his seat.

“Oh my fucking god, you really are that eager to please, aren’t you?” Akira looked like he’d just won the weekly lottery, which made Ryuji’s stomach do a flip-flop. “You really want to do what I say, don’t you?”

He sounded so pleased about it that Ryuji was only a little humiliated when he mumbled, “Uh, yeah, I guess?”

Akira nodded in encouragement. “How about we set some ground rules for a week and then see how it goes. If you want to stop at any time, just tell me you’re pulling the plug. I promise, I won’t be upset or disappointed. Okay?”

“Pulling the plug, yeah, okay.” Ryuji nodded, pretending this was completely normal.

“So, let’s see. How about... you text me every time you want to jerk off. Just the word ‘now’. Don’t touch yourself though, just text me. And then at night before you go to bed, call me. You’ll be allowed to cum, but I want to listen to you while you do it. Probably I’ll get off too. So you’ll still be cumming once a day. How does that sound?”

Ryuji wondered how his mouth could feel so dry when he just drank half a bottle of water. “Uh,” he said, clearing his throat, “yeah, that- that sounds good.”

Akira smiled. “Perfect.”

Ryuji blinked. “Is that it?”

“Oh hell no,” Akira laughed. “There’s a shitload more to decide. Whether you want us to actually touch, or do more than jerk off, there’s oral and anal, and whether you want to be tied up, there’s the whole kissing thing, whether you want to involve other people, whether you want to watch or be watched, there’s edging, ruined orgasms, post-orgasm torture...”

“Holy shit, dude.” The blood drained from Ryuji’s face. Pretty much all of that sounded fucking  _ amazing _ but some of it snagged, catching his attention. Kissing was a big one, and other people... did that mean Futaba? Maybe he was kinda into that now too?

Akira laughed, but it was the warm kind of laugh, the kind that made people feel good. “That’s why I thought we could see how it goes for a week. I mean, if you want to talk about that other stuff now we certainly can. I know this is new for you – it’s sorta new for me too, and I don’t want you to get overwhelmed.”

“Um, what about, uh. Like, what if I just want to hang out but I don’t wanna do any of this stuff, you know?”

Leaning back in his chair, Akira twirled his hair as he considered it. “You wear that pretty much all the time, right?” He pointed with his chin at the studded cuff on Ryuji’s wrist. “Take it off if you just want to hang without any of this other stuff.”

“Oh. Uh, yeah, that makes sense,” Ryuji nodded. “How come it’s not the other way around, though?”

Akira smirked. “I have a feeling you’re gonna want this a lot more often. At least, I certainly hope so.”

The way he said it made that whole weird-good, hot-cold feeling wash over Ryuji. Apparently he made a face, because Akira asked if he was okay.

“Yeah,” Ryuji nodded. “It’s just... weird. You know. Good though. Right?”

“I think it’s very good. This isn’t rocket science or world peace, dude. We’re just getting off together. It’s just extra fun with some added rules, so why not indulge?”

Reassured, Ryuji nodded, laughing at himself a little. “Right, yeah. Sorry.”

Akira’s phone buzzed, skittering across his desk. Glancing at the screen, he swore under his breath. “Shit. I gotta do an online study group thing, I forgot. You can stick around if you want, but....”

Ryuji suddenly imagined kneeling under the desk to nurse Akira’s cock while he chatted with his classmates. Leaping to his feet, he grabbed his bag to cover the moment. “Nah, I should study too. Exams coming up, you know how it is.”

Akira nodded absently, setting up his laptop. “Remember, text me tomorrow when you need to, and then call before bed, okay?”

“I remember,” Ryuji said, trying to sound casual. “Later, man.”

The following day, Ryuji found it was more difficult to follow the rules than he thought. He texted Akira first thing, because Ryuji wanted to jerk off basically every single morning, so that was easy.

But as the day wore on, it was complicated. Akira didn’t ask him to text every time he had a horny thought, only when he wanted to jerk off. Which wasn’t often, between his classes, his club, and then his job in the afternoon.

Or rather, it  _ shouldn’t  _ have been often. Normally, Ryuji wouldn’t think about getting himself off at all unless he was home, but now that the rule was in place, he thought about it all the time. Like, what if he wanted a quick wank in the bathroom at work? Or, like, during his lunch break? Did thinking about thinking about it count?

In the end, he texted ‘now’ five times during the course of the day, which was about how often his pondering tipped over into an actual desire to masturbate, even if he couldn’t actually do it in the moment.

Dutifully, he called Akira around 10 p.m. Usually he wouldn’t go to bed so early, but he couldn’t wait any longer. He was already hard, but also sweating and a little bit shaky.

“There you are.” Akira’s grin was audible even over the phone.

“Yeah man, just, you know, checking in or whatever.”

“Perfect. I bet you’re ready to go, huh.”

Ryuji swallowed hard. “Y-yeah,” he said, nodding for some reason.

“Nervous?”

“Uh. Kinda?”

“Me too,” Akira said.

“What, really?”

“A little.” There was a faint sound of shifting fabric. “Mostly I’m horny as fuck.”

Ryuji laughed. “Me too. Damn, why does this feel so fucked up?”

“No idea. I kinda like it though.”

Ryuji could hear the sound of fabric moving again. He wondered if Akira was in bed already, stroking his cock. The image of it flashed through his mind and he groaned quietly.

“Fuck yes,” Akira breathed. “Are you touching yourself?”

“Not yet.”

“Do it.”

Ryuji leaned back so he could sit against the wall, his legs splayed out in front of him on the bed. He slid his palm up the underside of his shaft a few times, finally curling his fingers around. “Nnngh, ‘s nice.”

“Good,” Akira said. “Now, tell me about the second time you wanted to jerk off today. What made you want it?”

With a quiet grunt, Ryuji screwed his eyes shut, trying to remember. “I was in class, and I thought about studying, and it made me think of – oh shit,” he groaned, squeezing his dick tight.

“Oooh, must’ve been something really good. Tell me.”

Hearing a direct order overrode Ryuji’s embarrassment. “Uh, thought about last night, when you were getting ready for your online thing, uh... kinda wanted to crawl under your desk and uhhhm... suck your cock?” He winced, hearing how lame it sounded put into words.

But Akira moaned, clearly pleased. “Ohhhhh fuck yes. You’d make such a good little cockwarmer, wouldn’t you?”

Ryuji felt his inhibitions melt away. “Want it so bad sometimes,” he whined, pumping his dick.

“Mmmm, you’d look so good on your knees under my desk. I’d keep you there for hours, letting you swallow load after load.”

Whatever Akira was doing with his voice had Ryuji riding the edge. Or maybe it was just his words, so unbelievably filthy and perfect. “C-can I? Please?”

“Can you what? Are you asking to suck my cock, or are you asking to – fuck I’m close – to cum?” Akira was panting hard, swearing under his breath.

“Nnnngh.” Ryuji whimpered, gritting his teeth. He didn’t think he would finish so fast, but the thought of actually swallowing Akira’s load made Ryuji desperate. "Both?”

“Fuck, be a good boy and cum for me,” Akira grunted. The phone line went muffled as he moaned in his own climax.

Not that Ryuji heard it; at the words  _ good boy,  _ his own phone slipped down to the mattress as he frantically tugged his cock, tipping over the edge with a squeal.

After a moment to catch his breath (and wipe his hand), Ryuji retrieved the phone from the tangle of blankets. “You still there?”

“Yeah.” Akira’s voice was blissed out. “Holy fucking shit. That was intense.”

Ryuji laughed breathlessly, giddy to hear he’d had such an effect on Akira. “That was okay?”

“Perfect,” Akira sighed. “Damn, you are so good at this.”

With a wordless gurgle of contentment, Ryuji smiled, slumping against the wall.

For a moment they just caught their respective breath. “I think this is gonna work out great,” Akira said. “Oh, and I should’ve mentioned this upfront but, anything we say in these chats, as far as I’m concerned, it’s just talk. Like, I’m not gonna hold you to anything, you know?”

As warm and relaxed as he’d been a moment ago, Ryuji felt like he’d swallowed an ice cube. A big one. “Oh? Uh, I mean, yeah, that’s fine.”

There was a pause. “I mean, if you  _ want  _ to do anything we talk about, we can, but we’ll talk about it later, you know? Not good to think with the little brain.”

“Oh yeah, totally,” Ryuji nodded, wondering why he felt so disappointed all of a sudden.

“You okay over there?”

Ryuji sometimes forgot how perceptive Akira could be. “Uh, just... feels a little weird right now?” he admitted.

Akira sighed heavily. “I should’ve said this before we started; I wasn’t thinking. Look, I’m not going to lie, I  _ totally want _ you to suck me off under my desk, okay? But I don’t want you to feel obligated to that later, once you’re not desperate to fap or whatever. You know what I mean?”

“Ohhh. Yeah. Yeah, okay.” Ryuji nodded in relief. In any event, he felt warm again, mellow and good. He yawned.

“Well then,” Akira laughed. Then he yawned too. “You good there?”

“Good here,” Ryuji said. He felt another yawn coming on. “Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, talk to you then. Be good.”

With one more jaw-cracking yawn, Ryuji clambered under his covers, feeling more relaxed than he had in weeks. Within a minute or two he fell asleep with a faint smile on his face, his phone still cradled in his hand.

  
  
  



	3. Ruined

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After going over some ground rules, Ryuji learns what it's like to have a ruined orgasm.

Ryuji Sakamoto was not a contemplative person. A such, he didn’t spend a lot of time wondering about his change in mood after a few days of following the rules Akira had set for him. 

Why would he? He felt  _ fucking incredible.  _ It was amazing -- he was full of energy, amped up basically from the moment he opened his eyes in the morning. It certainly didn’t hurt that he was going to bed a bit earlier and sleeping better. Hard not to sleep like a baby after cumming his brains out each night. 

Although they called each other every evening and got off together, Akira mixed it up a lot. Sometimes Ryuji wasn’t allowed to speak, only to listen to all the things Akira wanted to do to him. Sometimes Akira sent him a porn link and they both watched it at the same time. Once Akira made Ryuji suck on his fingers and play with his nipples until his cock was leaking, and another time he made Ryuji cum by humping the mattress. No matter what they did, it was mind blowing.

But it was more than that. Each day, Ryuji found he texted Akira less and less to say he wanted to masturbate. Not that he wasn’t horny -- just the opposite. But the urge to wank was overshadowed by his desire to please Akira, to prove he had the willpower to deny himself. Somehow the horny energy was, like, redirected or something? He didn’t know, nor did he think about it too hard. 

Plus he felt more confident? Which made even less sense. It was like walking around with this secret made him feel like he could do anything. 

Still, it would be a lie to say he wasn’t dying for the week to end, too. Akira promised that on Saturday, he would come to Ryuji’s room after lunch and they could do stuff in-person. 

Ryuji couldn’t remember the last time he was so excited, or nervous, to have someone in his dorm room. After breakfast he showered and went for a run -- shorter than his normal weekend route, didn’t want to tire himself out too much. Then he took another shower, had a snack, changed his sheets, emptied the trash, washed the dishes scattered around, and stuffed all his dirty laundry into the hamper. It kinda overflowed a little but at least it wasn’t on the floor, right?

It wasn’t that he was trying to impress Akira so much as he needed an outlet for the energy buzzing through him. In fact he would’ve gone for another run except he didn’t want to get all sweaty again. And anyway all his running gear was in the hamper. 

His efforts did not go unnoticed. Akira’s eyebrows shot up when he walked into the room. “Did you clean?”

“Uhh...” Ryuji looked around the room in surprise. “Guess I did, a little.”

Akira laughed and closed the door behind him. “Are you that eager, or that nervous?”

Clearing his throat, Ryuji rubbed the back of his neck. “Both?”

With a grin, Akira turned the desk chair around and sat backwards in it. “Like I said yesterday, I want to talk about stuff first, okay?”

“Right.” Ryuji nodded. Should he sit too? Probably. Abruptly, he plopped himself on the bed. “Talking’s good.”

“So, this is gonna be awkward,” Akira warned. Then he grinned. “But it might be fun, too.”

His smile made blood rush to Ryuji’s dick. Then again, Ryuji was so hyped up that he would’ve gotten turned on by almost anything Akira said. 

“Anyway,” Akira continued. “You seem to like having rules, and I like it too. So we’re just gonna go over some stuff so I know what kind of rules to make.”

Ryuji nodded dutifully. “Makes sense.”

“Great. First off, and this is a biggie -- do you want me to touch you? Or, like, touch each other?”

Ryuji blinked. “Uh... yeah? Ain’t that kinda the point?” 

Akira held up his hands. “Just checking! Maybe all you want is to jerk off together, I don’t know.”

“Oh! Oh, nah, I mean, yeah. Touching’s good.”

“Great.” Akira smiled like Ryuji had done something clever. “Alright, another biggie: kissing.” He paused, looking at Ryuji expectantly.

“Ohhhhhhh, er. Hm. Uhhhhhh....” Ryuji looked up at the ceiling, as if there would be an answer there. Suddenly he felt nervous in a different way. 

Akira merely waited.

“It’s just... ain’t that kinda... gay?”

After blinking in surprise, Akira burst out laughing. “Oh my god, did you really just --” He started laughing again, so hard he snorted.

“No no, not like  _ that,”  _ Ryuji objected, waving his hands around. “Ugh, I mean, like,  _ fuckkkk,”  _ he grumbled, scratching his hair. “Like, isn’t kissing for, like, boyfriend-girlfriend stuff? Ain’t we just friends?”

Wiping his eyes, Akira let out one last jag of laughter. “Sorry. That’s totally legit. If you’re not comfortable kissing, we won’t. Simple as that.”

Ryuji didn’t expect Akira to drop it so easy. A wave of disappointment hit him. “Er, hold on. Do you ‘n’ Futaba kiss?”

Akira scrunched his nose. “Not really. She’s not a fan. She thinks it’s too wet.” He rolled his eyes in affectionate amusement.

“But like, if she wanted to, would you?” Ryuji wasn’t sure why this was so important.

Tilting his head, Akira regarded him thoughtfully. “Yes,” he said after a brief pause. “I like kissing. A lot.”

Ryuji nodded, trying to figure out whether he wanted to or not. Did he even like kissing? Yeah, yeah he did. But the idea of kissing Akira felt... dangerous.

When he didn’t respond, Akira said, “How about this -- if you feel like you want to, go ahead. But if you don’t, I won’t be disappointed. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” Ryuji said, grateful for the guidance. 

Akira continued to pepper him with questions about stuff. Some of it was technical, like making a safeword and deciding whether they needed condoms. But since Ryuji hadn’t yet done an STI test, they decided to wait to do anything that would need one. After that, though, the questions got more interesting: whether he liked edging (hell yes), whether he ever wanted to ruin his orgasm (dunno what that is but hell yes), whether he wanted to try short periods of denial again  _ (hell  _ yes fuck). There was also stuff Ryuji wasn’t sure about but willing to try, like doing stuff almost in public, or getting tied up, and some stuff he definitely wasn’t interested in, like spanking, or --

“Pretending to be a dog? Dude, what the  _ fuck???”  _

Akira laughed again. “It’s called pup play. I only mentioned it because you seem to like obeying orders, and it’s all about being an obedient pup. I’m honestly not too into it, but I would try it if you wanted to,” he added. 

“Uh, no. Hard pass,” Ryuji said. 

“I know we talked about it before a little but what about blowjobs?” Akira asked.

Ryuji was already hard from talking so much about sex stuff. But even though his cock throbbed at the thought of sucking Akira off, his voice still broke as he croaked, “Uh, yes please.”

He’d meant it as a joke, but Akira inhaled sharply, staring at him with an almost feral look. “Definitely not the last time you’ll be saying that,” he murmured. “I do like it when you’re polite.” Then he took a deep breath, shaking his head slightly. “Sorry. Getting off track. Let’s just finish the list for now, so we can get to the good stuff, okay?”

“Hang on -- ‘list’? Dude, how many questions are there?”

Akira grinned. “Trust me, I’m giving you the short version. Futaba gave me a literal checklist. It was pages long.”

The mention of Futaba made Ryuji feel weird again. “Ugh, really?”

With a shrug, Akira continued, “It serves its purpose. I told you she taught me a lot. Anyway, last question for now. Are you interested in trying actual sex at some point?”

Even though he’d been thinking about it for weeks, Ryuji still hesitated. “Y-yeah,” Ryuji said, nodding slowly. “I think so?”

It wasn’t that the idea turned him off so much as it seemed daunting in reality. Sex was a big deal in the same way kissing was a big deal. Also, what if it turned out he wasn’t very good at it? Like what if he couldn’t take it or whatever? The prospect of disappointing Akira in that way made Ryuji shrivel up inside. 

“That’s not a yes, so we can come back to it later,” Akira said. “If you decide you really want it though, let me know. Because I do.”

“D-do you?” Ryuji cleared his throat, his voice catching almost in a squeak.

Akira nodded, his lips twisting into a crooked smile. “Fuck yes.”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Ryuji averted his gaze, unable to handle the intensity of the moment. “So, uhhhh, what do we do now?”

Akira pulled out his phone and began scrolling through some app. Ryuji was dying to know what it was, but he waited patiently.

“Okay,” Akira said after what felt like forever. “Over the course of the last week, you texted me fifteen times to say you wanted to jerk off. It’s a shame that you missed so many opportunities,” he said, frowning and clucking his tongue in mock sympathy. “So how about this: before you cum again, you have to edge fifteen times. You can either do all fifteen now, or we can split it up. Seven today, seven tomorrow.”

The most edges Ryuji had ever done in a row was four, and that had felt almost impossible. He groaned, squirming in his seat. The thought of even doing seven seemed crazy, much less -- “Hang on,” he said, coming to a sudden realization. “Ain’t we missing one if we split it up?”

Akira grinned at him, his eyes gleaming. “Not exactly. If we split it up, we’d do seven today, and then I’ll give you a ruin to tide you over till tomorrow.”

The concept of ruined orgasms was still new to Ryuji. Akira said he’d still be allowed to shoot, but that it wouldn’t feel like cumming. Ryuji didn’t see how that was possible, honestly -- an orgasm was an orgasm. How bad could it be, right?

He hesitated, trying to decide. On the one hand, even getting to seven edges felt like climbing Fuji; doing fifteen would be like climbing on one foot. And after going through that huge long list of stuff, Ryuji was a bit overwhelmed. All this shit was new to him, and Akira just seemed so cool and casual about it all. Ryuji didn’t want to look like a noob. Plus if they split it up, that meant he’d get to spend time with Akira two days in a row, so... win-win, right?

“Uh, let’s do that,” Ryuji nodded. “Split it up.”

Akira’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?” He sounded delighted.

Flushing, Ryuji nodded. “Yeah, sounds fun,” he said, trying to sound more confident than he actually was. 

Akira stood up. Ryuji wasn’t sure what to expect, so he was a little surprised when Akira clambered onto the bed, sitting so that Ryuji’s back was to his chest.

“This okay?” Akira’s voice was  _ right  _ in his ear. “I wanted you to be able to see yourself,” he murmured, nodding at the mirror hanging on the back of the door.

Ryuji glanced at the mirror, feeling super exposed. But damn, it was good too. He shivered. “Uh, yeah, it’s... oh. Goooood.” His voice trailed off as Akira began rubbing his hands on Ryuji’s inner thighs and nuzzling the back of his neck.

“You’re hard already. Eager. I like it.”

Ryuji’s eyes fell closed. “‘Course I am dude, all this sex taa-ohhhh fuck --” His words trailed off as Akira rubbed his palm over Ryuji’s dick through his shorts.

Akira hummed in amusement. “I bet I could get an edge out of you just like this, huh? Not even touching your skin.”

Whining, Ryuji flexed his hips, trying to rut into the flat of Akira’s hand. “Fuck, so good.” It wasn’t like he’d never had anyone touch his dick through fabric before. He’d had plenty of girls do it --  _ plenty.  _ Well. Four. Was four plenty? 

_ Does Futaba touch his dick like this?  _

The sudden, unwelcome thought came with a jumble of emotion Ryuji couldn’t identify. Shuddering, he inhaled sharply, hissing through his teeth as his eyes flew open.

Akira stopped at once, shifting his hands to rest on Ryuji’s thighs again. “What’s wrong?”

Ryuji shook his head. “Nuthin’, man. It’s fine. Good. Sorry.”

“I really need you to tell me,” Akira said. 

The obvious worry in his voice made Ryuji wince with guilt. “Sorry. Just had a weird thought, you know?”

“What kind of weird thought? Do you want to stop?”

“Nah, nah, nuthin’ like that. Just thought... augh, it’s embarrassing.” Ryuji looked up at Akira in the mirror. By the tilt of Akira’s eyebrow, Ryuji knew he couldn’t leave it at that. “Just, uh, wonderedifFutabadidthistoyou,” he mumbled.

Akira blinked. An expression flashed across his face, too quick for Ryuji to parse. 

Ryuji tried to laugh it off. “Sorry man, I know it’s none of my business, no big deal, just one of those brain malfunctions haha, you know how it is.”

Akira continued to regard him in the mirror. “We haven’t done  _ this  _ exactly,” Akira answered, speaking slowly. His eyes narrowed. “Do you  _ want _ to hear more about the things we do?”

The thing was, Ryuji kinda did? Ugh, it was so messed up, but thinking about Akira and Futaba was hot, even if it also made him jealous. But Ryuji couldn’t just  _ say  _ that, could he? 

As confused as Ryuji’s mind might have been, his dick knew exactly what it wanted, twitching in his shorts. 

Akira’s eyebrows flew up. A slow grin began to spread across his face. “So that’s how it is, huh?”

“Uhhh,” was all Ryuji could manage. His cheeks flushed. 

“You are fucking adorable,” Akira grinned. “Are you sure you’re not jealous?”

“I mean... I am? A little? But like, it’s hot too, and it makes me feel all... Ugh, I dunno man, it’s weird,” Ryuji huffed, hanging his head. 

“It’s not weird in the slightest. Just something to add to the list.”

Heart thudding, Ryuji’s head jerked up. “What, really? I don’t get it.” 

Akira began rubbing his thighs again. “I’ll have to ask Futaba about it first and get her permission before I tell you any of the things we’ve done. But I’m almost certain she’ll say yes. In fact she’ll probably want you to join us. Or at least watch.”

Ryuji’s dick jumped again. “Really?” His voice broke, almost a whimper.

“Really,” Akira said. He slid his thumbs up the sides of Ryuji’s now rock-hard cock.

Ryuji groaned in relief. “Feels so good.”

“Good,” Akira murmured. “I want it to feel good. You’ve been so obedient for me all week, you deserve it.” He loosely cupped one hand around the shaft with a feather light touch.

“Fuck.” Ryuji flexed his hips, pushing himself into Akira’s palm. 

“Yes,” Akira said. “That’s it. Look up, I want you to see yourself.”

Dutifully, Ryuji raised his head to watch himself in the mirror. Seeing that he was still fully clothed, rutting into Akira’s hand, was both pathetic and gratifying. He whimpered through gritted teeth as he continued to grind. “Dude, I’m gonna --”

“Ah-ah, no you don’t.” Akira pulled his hand away. “That’s your first edge.”

The sound Ryuji made was truly miserable. He flopped backwards into Akira. “Dude, I don’t know if I can make it.”

“You’re doing fine.” Akira gave his shoulders a quick squeeze. “Take off your shorts and we’ll see how many you can do. Oh, and grab the lube while you’re up.”

Ryuji did as he was told. It felt a little weird to settle back into place wearing just a tank top and his socks, but he was too worked up to care. It definitely helped that Akira took off his shorts too, his erection nestled against Ryuji’s lower back. 

Akira grinned at Ryuji in the mirror. “Having fun?”

“Y-yeah,” Ryuji grinned back, feeling a bit loopy. 

“Alright, let’s go for two.” Akira dragged one finger up the underside of Ryuji’s cock, up and down, until Ryuji whined. Then, with an indulgent chuckle, Akira finally wrapped his fingers around and began to pump in earnest.

The sensation of a bare hand after so much teasing made Ryuji groan. But any relief he felt in his impending orgasm was once again ripped away just a minute later.

“I think that counts as two,” Akira said, smiling in approval. 

“Nnnngh, bro, I’m not gonna make it,” Ryuji moaned.

Akira laughed. “Of course you are,” he said. “You’re doing amazing. Remember, if you really want to stop, tell me to pull the plug.”

“No no!” Ryuji said immediately, shaking his head. “I’m good, I’m good.”

Ryuji had very little idea of what to expect from doing so many edges. He’d only ever managed four, and that was by himself over the course of several hours on a lazy afternoon of watching porn. Sitting in Akira’s lap, feeling Akira’s hand, watching the whole thing in the mirror -- it was all so much more intense. 

And Akira was clearly loving it. He cooed in approval every time Ryuji’s dick twitched in the empty air after an edge, or hummed happily as he stroked and pumped and played with Ryuji’s balls a little. After the fourth edge, he lubed Ryuji up, which was even more fucking incredible.

By the sixth edge, Ryuji was really sure he couldn’t do another. “Dude. Dude, I can’t. I can’t,” he groaned. He felt light-headed, woozy, his cock an angry shade of purple. “I’m gonna cum if you do it again.”

“No you won’t,” Akira murmured. He nuzzled against Ryuji’s hairline, breath tickling the back of his neck. “You’re going to be a good boy and give me another edge.”

Ryuji made an incomprehensible noise of agreement. 

“Mmm, not good enough,” Akira said. “Say it. Say, ‘I’m a good boy.’”

“Nnnnnngh. I’ma -- I’m a good boy,” Ryuji mumbled, scrunching his eyes shut.

“Again. Open your eyes, there you go.”

Ryuji wrenched his eyes open, staring at Akira in the mirror. “I’m a good boy.”

“Perfect,” Akira nodded. He reached his slicked-up hand around, once again offering his palm for Ryuji to rut against. “Keep saying it.”

“F-fuuuck, I’m a good boy,” Ryuji whined, hips bucking as his glans slid against Akira’s hand. With the lube, there was almost no friction. It was agonizing. “I’m a good boy.”

“That’s it,” Akira said, his voice breathy. His eyes seemed to gleam. “Edge for me. Keep saying it.”

Ryuji gritted his teeth, trying to get more pressure, more  _ anything. _ “I’m a good boy, I’m a good boy, I’m -- fuck! -- a goodboy I’magoodboy fuck fuck  _ fuck!” _

Akira whipped his hand away, leaving Ryuji moaning in frustration, hips thrusting into the air. “Nooo, please, I need it.”

“I know, I know you do,” Akira said, wrapping his arms around Ryuji’s chest. 

It was weird but it felt good, making it easier for Ryuji to settle back down again, though it did nothing for the pulsing ache in his cock. He panted, too desperate to even care how pathetic it seemed.

“Shh, shh,” Akira murmured. “Almost there,” he said. 

Ryuji felt Akira begin to stroke his own cock, his knuckles dragging along Ryuji’s lower back. He tried to hold still, but he still quivered in place, impatient for the agony to end but dreading for their fun to be over.

“Good boy, just another minute,” Akira said, his voice breathy. “Gonna edge too, fuck, feels good.”

Without thinking, Ryuji arched his back in invitation. With a groan, Akira let go of his cock, sliding himself against the cleft of Ryuji’s ass. “Ohhh yes, just like that, good boy. Mmm, you could make me cum like this.”

Ryuji whimpered in encouragement. “Yeah?”

“Next time,” Akira said, gripping Ryuji’s hips to hold him still. “You still owe me a ruin.”

“Oh fuck.” Ryuji winced in anticipation. The last edge had been torture; he could only imagine Akira was gonna tease him with one fingertip or something equally cruel.

Instead, Ryuji gasped when Akira gripped him with his whole hand, freshly lubed. This wasn’t teasing at all -- Akira jerked him hard and fast.

“Oh shit oh  _ shit.” _ Ryuji clenched his jaw, tensing his whole body in an attempt to hold back his orgasm.

“Relax,” Akira said. “Stop fighting it.”

“B-but I’m gonna cum if you --”

_ “Relax.” _ Akira growled into his ear. 

Ryuji did his best to obey, whimpering continually as he allowed the muscles in his thighs and core to loosen. But then he felt the first telltale clench in the base of his cock. “Oh no, no, I’m gonna --”

His warning devolved into gurgles of frustration as Akira once again pulled his hand away. But Ryuji was too far gone. His cock twitched in the empty air, a steady dribble of cum spurting pathetically as his orgasm was completely ruined.

“No noooooo.” Ryuji flopped backwards, shuddering. It was like an orgasm but without any sense of pleasure or relief, only disappointment. He nearly sobbed in exasperation.

“Good boy, good boy, that’s perfect,” Akira said, petting his chest in reassurance.

The need for something --  _ anything -- _ to provide a sense of closure overwhelmed Ryuji. Without thinking at all he squirmed around to face Akira, kissing him in utter desperation.

Akira made a surprised sound into Ryuji’s mouth, eagerly kissing him back. He pulled them both backwards so they were lying on the bed. Ryuji continued to whimper and squirm, still full of need even as his cock began to soften.

Akira put one hand behind Ryuji’s head, holding him in the kiss, while he reached his other hand down and stroked his cock. He moaned into Ryuji’s mouth, which just drove Ryuji that much more crazy. Ryuji reached down and put his hand on top of Akira’s, desperate to feel included in the moment even if he wasn’t the one getting Akira off. 

“Yes,” Akira groaned, letting go of himself so that Ryuji could take over. “Good boy.”

It was an awkward angle and Ryuji was using the wrong hand, but he did his best. Akira kept moaning and kissing him, so it wasn’t like Ryuji was about to stop. 

And then he felt Akira’s cock stiffen in his hand. It was fucking incredible. They both moaned, no longer kissing so much as breathing against each other’s mouth, as Akira came in Ryuji’s hand.

As amazing as that was, Ryuji still felt kind of hazy, almost like he hadn’t slept in days. Plus he was still horny, even though there was nothing he could do about it.

Akira shifted in the bed, turning onto his side so Ryuji could lay flat on his stomach. “You okay?”

“Duuuuude,” Ryuji groaned into the pillow. “That was  _ awful.” _

Laughing, Akira asked, “Was it? Seemed pretty great to me.”

Ryuji summoned up enough energy to turn his head to the side so he could stare balefully at Akira. “Bro. This sucks, I’m still so... nnnngh.” With a grunt, he shoved his face back into the pillow, wiggling his hips against the bed.

“Mmm, I know, right? But hey, imagine how amazing it’s going to feel tomorrow.”

“Oh shit.” The concept of enduring another seven edges made Ryuji’s face feel hot. His cock twitched in vain. “I forgot.”

Still laughing, Akira pushed himself up onto one elbow. “You’re okay though, right? Seriously.”

“Yeah, I’m good.” Ryuji turned to look at him. “You don’t think I’m a freak for all this, do you? Like, that was pretty pathetic, me begging and all.”

Akira grinned at him. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. Trust me, it’s really,  _ really  _ not.” He leaned over to grab the box of tissues from the dresser, cleaning himself off. “As long as you’re having a good time, it’s just fun, right? Anyway, if you’re a freak then I am too, so.”

Ryuji had to admit that was a fair point. He rolled over, grabbing his shorts from the ground and shimmying them on while Akira did the same. Now that the cloudiness in his head had cleared, he felt pretty fucking amazing. 

“Damn, you know what, I feel pretty fucking amazing,” he said, hands on his hips. “I’m tired, but I’m kinda pumped too, you know? Like I just ran a 10k or something. Starving though. Wanna grab some noodles?”

Akira grinned and adjusted his glasses. “Naturally.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eyyyyy, this fic is still alive! It's looking like we're heading into M/M/F poly territory folks, so if that's not your thing, please exit the ride at the platform. However, the main pairing will continue to be Ryuji/Akira. I will update tags accordingly once I write the next chapter.


End file.
